


Parisian Romance Strikes Again!

by orphicserenade



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Secret Identity, set on fire - burning bright
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-12 08:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18007019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphicserenade/pseuds/orphicserenade
Summary: Touchdown at Paris Fashion WeekClosing off fashion month, the height of style excitement, Paris Fashion Week is finally here. With many labels aiming to inspire awe, the selection of names on the exclusive list is familiar to many. Yet all eyes are on a new brand, waiting to see what it brings forth.Established by fashion icon and designer, Takashi Shirogane,SHIROis a brand that ‘transcends time and space, delivering a unique style which brings Western and Eastern fashion together’ [sourced from https://www.shiro.com]. From sneak peeks and behind the scenes interviews, there have already been positive reviews and excitement which extends to his growing admirers. But he still awaits the trial from the fiercely competitive French fashion scene.WillSHIROblaze through Paris Fashion Week and leave their mark? Or will they fall under the pressures of public scrutiny?Keep updated and subscribe to be a part of our mailing list!





	Parisian Romance Strikes Again!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [weeniesama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weeniesama/gifts).



> This piece was written for the Sheithlentines Exchange - I apologise for the tardiness of this gift. The setting for this piece came suddenly and there were scenes that I wished to include. Before I knew anything, it started to solidify and I do enjoy the universe I have created here. I hope that the person I am gifting this piece to, Weeniesama [ Twitter ], will enjoy reading this piece and find it suited to their tastes.
> 
> Please check the rest of the collection for the works of others who are also in the exchange - everyone's works are a delight to read and see.
> 
> I would also like to take a moment to say thank you to all the people who supported me through this process - [Charlie](https://twitter.com/charlsteas) and [Jay](http://agentnavi.tumblr.com/), you both pushed me and gave me encouragement to finish this piece. I am thankful and grateful for your support - you kept me going even when it felt impossible to finish on time.
> 
> Please click on the crown for a song to listen to whilst reading.

[{ ♔ }](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D5P1R6CRsoM)

 

“You know how much I dislike publicity.”

There was a rustle as his partner folded his arms, as if they were deflecting the incoming argument. Perhaps the darkened corridor was not the best choice of location, but it was his last chance. Shiro had to try.

“Please?” Takashi asked softly, giving the irresistible pout that only his partner got to see. It was not his trump card, but it had charm enough to convince the other man most of the time.

Needless to say, it was not working today. 

He raised a brow - a silent question. Takashi still had more energy to give to his attempts, but it was clear what the result was going to be. The two of them agreed on many topics, but this was one topic he would occasionally bring up only for his hopes dashed mere minutes later.

 

The logical part of him understood; he could hardly push someone to do something they did not wish to do, especially not someone he loved dearly like him. Yet his emotions were irrational, unreasonable - _passionate_ \- and he desired.  

Takashi desired something that he was not ready to give. 

He wished he could let it go, but he like any other human, was prone to insecurity. Questions of the mind prompted doubt and uncertainty - he tried his best to ignore them. It worked for the most part, however, they would escape on some occasions.

He always brought him back though. Back to the present with small gestures of affection, meaningful words softly spoken and love which bled through every part of their relationship - a union of the souls.

His conflicted expression sparked something in the other, for he sighed and began to speak.

“I’m proud of you, Takashi. I really am, but I don’t-” his eyes flickered off to the side before his shoulders slumped, “I don’t like this.”

He was less tense - muscles uncoiling as he settled into a more neutral pose - but Takashi knew it was still an uncomfortable topic.

“What are you worried about?” _Tell me, I won’t judge._ Rather than being demanding about his request, asking about his worries and concerns would get him to open up. Or so he hoped. 

Dark, smouldering eyes directed their intensity towards him, searching. With their height difference closed by the shoes his lover wore, the gaze seemed more captivating up close. Takashi could not deny how much he adored looking into his beautiful eyes - their friends called it sickeningly sweet, but it was undeniably true for him. 

He could see traces of hesitation. His partner was not the sharing type; he had become more eloquent over the years, but the communication of emotions between them often tended to be physical. Opening up was hard, but Takashi was patient. 

Patience he would always have for his dearest.

With gentleness, he took the other’s hands in his own and brought them up to his lips. Brushing his lips against each side of the hands, he soon clasped them and rubbed his thumbs over his knuckles. 

“Take your time, there is no rush-” 

“The publicity and the media - I hate them. We don’t need the attention. We don’t _ask_ for the attention. I just want them to leave us alone in peace.” He interrupted, the familiar temper flaring up as his voice grew in volume. 

Takashi squeezed his hands for reassurance before entwining their fingers. It brought his partner back to the present and he squeezed back in an attempt to calm down. A subtle gesture they often shared between them and a method of grounding each other without words.

“I can take care of you if we go together.” 

“You shouldn’t have to worry about that in the first place.” He shot back, scowling as though it would gut the reporters they had to suffer.

They were the reason why the two of them had different work times to avoid suspicion. They were the reason why they could not share the home they bought together. They were the reason why the relationship was a secret from the public. 

“You know I would still worry,” Takashi answered, his soothing voice washing over the other. “Plus, we haven’t seen each other in a while, so I thought we could make it our late Valentine’s Day outing.” An additional joke would relax both of them. 

He chuckled, allowing the momentary delight to overtake him.

“The media doesn’t need to have you all the time.” _The media would never have me the way you have me._ “And we need to get going if you want to drive in on the Honda.” 

“I like the Suzuki better.” He admitted. Their hands parted, fingers lingering as he stepped back. 

“We can take a trip to the studio if you’re fast enough.” A trip to the studio to calm his head and examine his designs one last time. 

“I’ll even let you dress me.” 

Takashi groaned, the additional offer too tempting to ignore. It was not something he often gave permission for him to do, even if he used him as his muse and inspiration. A good bribe - an extremely good bribe - that he could not pass. 

He was being played, but he was fine with it. Now all he needed to do, was convince him to try on the new set that he recently finished making... 

“You know I can’t resist this.” A smirk was sent in his direction as his lover sauntered off towards their garage. 

“You better hurry then - we need to be out the house in ten if we’re going to make it.” 

“Roger that.” 

 ─･ ♔ ･─

Takashi Shirogane arrived in style. Since his first appearance as an amateur model, his arrival and departure from events were always done with easy elegance. Others would try to replicate his style, only to find themselves subpar - the poise and decorum could not be learned. 

His presence grew as time passed and his popularity soon surpassed other models as he rose. It was a beautiful beginning, but a tragic ending many came to say.

A fall from grace - as if Takashi would let a cliche be the finale to his tale. He returned, a phoenix rising from the ashes - he wished the media used better comparisons - and the young model sparked revelation as he morphed. Dipping back into his past, he unravelled his threads and introduced himself once again.

Takashi Shirogane, model turned fashion designer, had taken a bold move to form his own label.

Now as a designer, he is no less sophisticated. His inner sense of fashion flourished and his unique choices of clothing often putting him in the headlines, with the pieces he wears being sold out in the matter of hours. And when he started to put out limited numbers of his own designs, the media would rave about them before they even landed.

Perhaps most iconic part of Takashi was found not in his clothing, or appearance, but in the way he travelled to events. No limousines, fancy cars or public transport - it was a motorcycle. The model would change, but the driver remained constant as noted by the media.

A Suzuki Hayabusa, a Honda Gold Wing - the motorcyclist drove with grace and a familiarity that many pondered and theorised over.

It was a mystery in itself, one with no clues and hidden messages tucked with the secrets that were out in the open, in plain sight.

The gaps in Takashi’s life - the parts he refused the media - seemed to be specifically shaped, perfect for his significant someone. Yet it remained empty throughout the years.

He had a husband, but no date to events. He had a ring, but no pair to go with it. He had _someone_ , but no one known to the public. It was selfish to keep their relationship a secret, but neither of them wished to diverge.

In recent times however, Takashi had become self-assured. Well established and known, he was more confident in himself and knew that he and his significant other could brave through anything. If anything, he hoped his audience would support his relationship.

And that is why he wanted to try. That is why he was _willing_ to try. If his partner felt uncomfortable though, he was not going to go forth with his plan.

Only when they were both ready, they would go - together. He would not let anyone rush them.

However, it did not mean he could not do some convincing first.

“I just want to show them. Don’t you?” Takashi bumped his helmet against the man’s, in attempt to press closer.

“That move doesn’t work when we have helmets on.” Came the muffled reply, amusement weaved into his tone. “Pouting doesn’t work when I can’t see.”

His arms tightened as they turned a tight corner, the streets becoming familiar to him. His sense of direction was often flawed; when Takashi went somewhere new, he needed a map or someone with him, as he would easily get lost.

“Not as bad as your brooding when Lance comes by.”

“I don’t _brood._ ” The voice sounded offended, and Takashi laughed, knowing that he had caught his partner out.

The two of them were good friends, but Lance - an upcoming model and actor - often came to Takashi for help. Somehow, he was good at choosing the times that they decided to do something together. Unable to deny the plea for help, Takashi would often need to persuade his lover to come back to cuddling when he returned.

Facing a deadly scowl was worth it as minutes later, he would melt into Takashi’s side and adjust himself for optimum comfort. It was a side that only he was shown, and he needed to hold back from cooing, lest his partner run away.

There was a sudden veer off into a smaller street, leading him back into the unknown paths. A temporary panic rose in him, but he reminded himself that he knew the way.

“Where are you going?” He could not help asking, wishing to be assured.

“Shortcut. Nearly late.”

Looking at the time, he was close to being late. Takashi Shirogane was never late; the person who invented the term ‘fashionably late’ must have always been late themselves. Closing in on the drop off point, the motorcycle skidded to a stop.

Slipping off with a practiced grace, he tugged off his helmet, adjusting his locks a little. Although Takashi did worry about his hair, it was less of a concern compared to the clothes he wore. His hair stylist would protest, but the ruin of his hair was inevitable with the mode of transport he used.

There was a light tap on his hip, off angle from the camera.

“Wait here.” As the motor sounded, his companion rode off into the streets, turning into another corner.

Wait. A strange request that he rarely gave and had never given at a time like this. Perhaps there was something different about today - Takashi would have to wait and see.

Standing off to one side awkwardly, Shiro’s lack of movement stirred a chatter to start amongst the reporters. He ignored the media and continued to wait - if he was being told to wait, there had to be a good reason.

A few minutes later, his lover appeared, face still hidden under the protection of the helmet. The chatter increased in volume, speculation spiking in growth.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming...” Shiro answered in disbelief, staring down the motorcyclist, still trying to make sense of everything.

If he was surprised, who was this person? Did he get an invitation from Shiro himself or did he show up unexpectedly for some unknown reason?

The helmet came off and the mystery person shook their head a little before tucking it under his arms. Black hair was swept up into a ponytail, revealing the sharp features of the male and the lean muscle of his body, shown by the outfit. And it was purple which gave the main clue - the purple of _SHIRO_.

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I did.” Keith Kogane answered, a small flush upon his cheeks as he smiled up at the famous fashion designer.

“I would’ve dressed you more nicely!” Shiro protested, his brows frowning with clear frustration.

“And let it be ruined by the ride?” With the statement, he sighed, but seemed to be placated.

Behind them, the questions already shifted focus as each reporter pressed to get the story first.

“We are live at the Paris Fashion Week as Takashi Shirogane joins us with an unexpected guest-” “How do you know each other?” “Takashi Shirogane’s mysterious motorcyclist is none other than Keith Kogane-” “Why did you decide to invite Keith Kogane with you to this event?” “Keith Kogane makes an entry at Paris Fashion Week-” “What is the relationship between the two of you?”

“Are you his fiancee?”

As if the question had caught his attention, Keith parted from Shiro momentarily. He sauntered over to the reporters, taking the offered microphone. Drawing closer to the reporters, he stopped for effect.

“I’m not his fiancee. I’m his husband.”

Keith drops the microphone with a smirk, scanning the entire premise for the moment of shock before everything exploded. Refusing more questions and answers, he backed away, sauntering back to Takashi’s side. Despite the disapproving shake of his head, the fashion designer offered a hand, which he took eagerly.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He scolded. There was appreciation though, and a deep affection hidden in his voice, to which Keith’s smirk morphed into a laugh.

“Did you expect anything less?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking time out of your day to read this piece - apologies if you find Shiro, Keith or the Sheith dynamic out of character; it is my first time writing Sheith. I hope you enjoyed the contents of this piece! 
> 
> Find me on Twitter at [@orphicwaltz](https://twitter.com/orphicwaltz).
> 
> Here is a small additional interaction to the last part that I did not manage to fit in:
> 
> Takashi: Dare I say, it had a touch of Lance dramatics.  
> Keith: No, you are not giving the credit to him.  
> Takashi: Alright.  
> Keith: Fine! He helped. But only a little.


End file.
